Good Intentions
by Katta
Summary: Rogue and Scott head off for a training excercise, but things don't work out well. Sequel also on this site, check my bio.
1.

GOOD INTENTIONS  
  
SUMMARY: Rogue and Scott head off for a training excercise, but things don't work out well.  
DISTRIBUTION: Kielle can obviously have it. Everyone else must ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: Good guys are not mine, bad guys are.  
FEEDBACK: please!  
PERSONAL WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.comkatta_hj  
OTHER RECOMMENDED WEBSITE: One that repeatedly shows that good intentions can be completely devastating if you don't ask people before you decide what's best for them: http://welcome.to/fingertoes  
DEDICATION: To Jill and Rhiannon, my fellow musketettes, betareaders and helpers. Without them, this fic would have looked completely different.  
NOTE: This does not fit into any canon, including my own. Any likeness with real people is probably coincidental (I don't know what Stan Lee had in mind). Any likeness with fictional characters, from, oh I don't know, a very good Christian Slater movie, is intentional. The only animals harmed in the making of this fic were fictional and therefore don't count. There is serious harming of x-men canon characters in this fic. Angst warning, in other words.  
**********  
Bobby lay down on the couch, relaxing all his stretched muscles. You know, before this I thought Ororo was a *nice* person!  
Rogue looked with sympathy at her friend. He looked far beyond tired, and she couldn't help wondering what he had been doing the past ten days.  
Does everyone have to go through that program? she asked, a little worried. After all, summer holidays was supposed to be just that, not some sort of military camp.  
No, just if you plan on being an X-man. Which I do. He rolled over on his stomach. Rogue, can you be an angel and rub my shoulders?  
She did as she was asked, letting her gloved hands work automatically while she thought. Only if you planned on being an X-man well, why not? She couldn't think of anything she would like to do more, not with things being the way they were. Even Logan had returned and joined the team, in spite of all his previous cynicism. She wondered to herself if he had gone through those exercises too.  
Bobby glanced up at her thoughtful face. No way. You're not really thinking of doing it, are you?  
Why not? she asked, a little offended at his tone. I could do it as well as you.  
Yeah, but it's not worth it. At her raised eyebrow, he admitted: Okay, it is worth it, but only just. Don't sign up for anything before you have thought it through, you hear me? You don't know who will be couching you. Ororo was mean, but they say she's just a summer breeze compared to  
**********  
  
Rogue stared at the bulletin board. Yup, that was her name, and next to that his. She looked at Bobby, standing beside her. I got Scott.  
Don't say I didn't warn you. He grinned at her. You know, you still have a chance to back off.  
Why would I? she asked, irritated. I can deal with Scott. He can't be that bad can he? Her voice was a little uncertain watching Bobby's grimace.  
Don't tell me my Rogue is afraid of our fearless bug-eye, Logan said behind her. Turning around, she saw a frown on his face, but also a barely noticeable shadow of a smile.  
I'm not!  
He put a hand on her shoulder. I want you to show that little dick what a fighter you are. And if he tries to bully you, just absorb him.  
Rogue didn't like thinking about her powers, but Logan joking about them made them seem a little less frightening, not like something too horrible to speak of.  
Well, not too much, he said. I want to be the one finishing him off.  
**********  
Rogue looked out the window of the car on the road passing by, trying not to think too much of what lay ahead. Bobby had been exaggerating, of course. He always was. No matter how much he cared for her, he could never resist teasing her a little. Or maybe that was the cause. Anyway, there was no way all that stuff he had told her could be *true*. Ororo would never  
Are you hungry?  
Rogue looked up at Scott and nodded a little timidly. Nothing she told herself could get her heart to leave that uncomfortable spot in her mouth.  
Me too. This looks like a good place.  
Yeah, it did. One of those little by the road joints, but cosy somehow. Going inside, she found that it was just as nice as the outside. With one exception. According to the perpetual rules of life's bitchiness, there were a few loudmouths hanging around by the counter. No matter, that could be ignored. Or at least she could. Hearing the comments about Scott, she glanced at his direction, and even though his face didn't show that he had heard, she knew that he had.  
You should have taken the glasses, she said in a low voice.  
Too late now, he said calmly. Come on, there's a table.  
When they had ordered their food and started to dig in on it, Rogue began to enjoy herself. Maybe Scott *was* rough on the training, but they weren't training yet, and so far he had been kind of nice. Nicer than she ever had seen him, actually, less of a leader and more of a person. He seemed to want her to relax a little, because he kept up the small talk and her heart began to get back in place. No need to worry about tomorrow.  
I think I'm going to get a cup of coffee, he said. Do you want one?  
No thanks.  
She watched him leave for the counter and felt pleasantly full. The food had been really good and there had been plenty of it.  
What's with the eyewear, freak?  
One of the loudmouths was blocking Scott's way. Rogue bit her lip. She didn't want any trouble.  
Scott remained calm. Will you please let me through?  
I don't think so, freak. The man was getting agitated. I don't want your kind coming in here and spoil the fun for decent people.  
Oh, I see, you prefer to do that yourself?  
Rogue snickered a little at that remark, but it wasn't a very wise one. Not if you wanted to stay out of trouble. The man's face turned crimson.  
That's it, I'm gonna show you, mutie!  
His punch wasn't very impressive. Scott's, on the other hand, was. It only took one blow to make the guy fall. Unfortunately, he fell right on Rogue. Skin touched bare skin and Rogue started to screm as she saw the guy choking in her lap. Everyone stared at her, and she panicked seeing the man's friends come closer. She hadn't wanted to absorb him, but how could she explain that? She was relieved when Scott pulled the man away from her, and gratefully accepted the support his arm offered.  
I suggest you leave. The owner spoke firmly, but she didn't mind being asked to leave, that was all she wanted right now. Get away from the people around, from those awful men and their hateful eyes. If only she could get away from the man in her head. Outside she stopped, leaning towards the wall.  
I think I'm going to throw up, she said.  
Scott nodded. He felt a little helpless watching her. As her teacher, he was supposed to protect her, not get her into situations like these. Rogue, I'm so sorry, he said when she straightened up again.  
It's not your fault. She wiped her mouth. I want to leave.  
  
**********  
Inside, a woman was making a phone call, speaking with a low voice. She was well-dressed in clothing that screamed professional. One of them almost killed a man just by touching him. I don't know what the mutation of the other one was, but he was wearing some funny thing over his eyes. Apart from that they both looked perfectly normal. Do you think they would be suitable?  
The answer pleased her. They will be perfect.  
**********  
By the side of the road there was a car with its hood open, and a man waving his arms for help. Scott pulled over the car and got out. he asked.  
The man's glance touched Scott's face for only a second before he looked away. Yeah. The car just stopped and I don't know why. Gas and battery are both okay. I'm afraid I don't know too much about engines.  
I do, Scott said with a smile. It was hard being nice to people who treated you like a leper, but easier than dealing with bullies. He bent down over the hood and looked at the engine. There wasn't anything obvious wrong with it.  
He felt a small sting on his neck, and before he realised what had happened, he drifted off into nowhere.  
Rogue saw Scott slump over the stranger's car and rushed out, yelling his name. As the other man turned around she took a few steps backwards, frightened. But the man seemed just as shocked as she was. I dont know what happened to him. You think he had a stroke or something?  
A stroke? Scott? It didn't seem likely. Worried, Rogue walked up to the car, eyes fixated at her unconscious teacher.   
A sound made her turn around. The stranger was putting on gloves. Why would he do that? Suddenly she realised that getting out of the car had been a decidedly *bad* idea. She didn't have time to act on that thought. A needle flashed, and after that, Rogue knew of nothing.  
**********  
When Rogue woke up she found herself tied to a bed. Looking around, she saw that she lay in something that looked like a perfectly normal hospital room, only in a perfectly normal hospital room, nobody would have tied her up. She recalled rumours she had heard about anti-mutant groups, and more than rumours, Logan's shattered memories came up to the top of her head. Her mouth turned dry from fear.  
The door opened and a woman in doctor's clothing came in.  
Oh, good, you're awake, she said in an amiable voice.  
Who are you? Rogue asked, panicking. Where's Scott?  
The young man who was with you? I'm afraid I can't tell you that, but I assure you that he is fine. She moved closer to Rogue. What's your name?  
Rogue didn't answer and the woman smiled. Alright then, you don't have to tell me. I'm doctor Chandler. None of us is here to harm you.  
Rogue found that very hard to believe. Then why tie me up?  
Because this isn't optional either. Dr. Chandler's voice was calm and friendly, but in spite of this, Rogue started to feel scared. Your mutation is very dangerous, you understand that, don't you? She didn't wait for a reply. It is most essential that we find a cure as soon as possible.  
A cure? If this hadn't been such a serious situation, Rogue would have laughed. There's no cure for mutation! It's in my genes!  
True. There are people working on the genetic aspects. We're not it, though. Our field of study is more concrete, including surgical methods.  
The world swirled around Rogue's head. All that sweet talking couldn't hide the fact that she was a guineapig to them.  
Dr. Chandler seemed disappointed at her reaction. Please understand that our intentions are good, she said, bringing out a needle. Now, I'm going to take a blood sample from you. It's not dangerous, but some people don't like the sight of their own blood, so maybe you should look away.  
Rogue's school nurse had said the same thing, in the same kind of sweet voice.  
There. Now we'll run some tests on your blood and you'll get the results once we're done.  
A man entered the room, carrying a small cage in one hand.  
Heather? I brought the mouse.  
Oh, good! Dr. Chandler turned to Rogue. This is doctor Sawyer, one of my colleagues.  
Dr. Sawyer said, nodding in Rogue's direction. Then he turned back to Dr. Chandler. Heather, I have some work to do, do you mind if I don't stay?  
Of course not, Ronnie. Get going. Dr. Chandler playfully slapped his behind as he left, and he blushed a little. After he had left, she put on rubber gloves before taking the mouse out of its cage and rolling up Rogue's sleeve.  
Let's see if this works with animals as well, she said, letting the mouse down on Rogue's arm. It moved around for a second or two before stiffening. Rogue closed her eyes, not wanting to see the little animal get hurt but incapable of doing anything about it.  
Dr. Chandler took the mouse away, listening to its heart through a stetoscope. You killed it, she said calmly. She looked at Rogue. Did you intend to kill it or did it just happen?  
Rogue watched the limp body of the mouse. She had always considered mice definitely icky. Yet its body looked so weak and pathetic tears filled her eyes.  
Dr. Chandler took a tape recorder from her pocket and spoke into it. Subject number two killed a mouse by touch, apparently without wishing for it to happen. Both subjects have dangerous mutations, and neither seems able to prevent a lethal outcome. She turned off the tape recorder and turned to Rogue. Don't worry. We'll take care of you.  
Rogue lay back on the bed, crying. Her mind went to Scott. Dr. Chandler had been speaking of two subjects. What were they doing to him?  
**********  
When Scott woke up and couldn't open his eyes, his pulse exceeded all speed limits in no time. For a moment he thought he was back in his old nightmare. Moving around, he couldn't help but notice that his hands and feet were tied up, too, meaning this was a *new* nightmare. That didn't make him feel any better. He tried to keep his thoughts clear, to figure out what had happened. The man in the car. Damn, he should have known better than to approach strangers. When you're a mutant, that's equivalent to wearing a kick me sign.  
Nobody would find them. That was a thought that kept pushing forward. On a training excercise like this, it could take several days before he had the energy to call Jean. Sometimes he didn't call at all. She always told him to, but she wouldn't be a bit surprised if she didn't hear from him in the next ten days.  
A lot could happen in ten days.  
Scott lay for what seemed like hours, trying to stay calm and think of what to do. There was nothing he *could* do. If only he knew what was going on, maybe it wouldn't seem so bad. Then again, maybe it would feel worse.  
Finally, he heard a door open.  
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, a man's voice said. My name is doctor Sawyer. I understand if our methods made you fear the worst, but you have no reason to worry.  
I don't? Scott's voice was sarcastic.  
This is all a precaution, Dr. Sawyer said, sounding a bit awkward. We are trying to find ways of performing corrective surgery on mutants. Unfortunately, we have not had much luck in finding voluntary subjects, so we make choices from a selection of mutants who are dangerous to themselves and others, but fairly normal-looking.  
And you picked me. Scott didn't know how he managed to keep his voice calm. How flattering.  
It may seem radical to you, Dr. Sawyer said in an apologetic voice, but I honestly believe you will find the life we can provide you with a definite improvement to your previous one. And of course we won't keep you here once we've fixed you.  
Fixed? He didn't want to be fixed. He wasn't broken. Well, not too much, anyway.  
I noticed that you had been injured in a most unfortunate way. A note of regret. I can't even imagine what your life must be like. We'll make it a lot better for you. You'll see.  
Scott clenched his teeth in suppressed anger. At least the usual FOH bastards didn't try to give him a pity he had never asked for. Okay, so maybe he wouldn't mind being provided with an off-switch, but not by some kidnappers who used him for experiments. And he certainly didn't want them to take his powers away altogether.  
What did you do to the girl?  
She's fine, I promise. We are considering skin transplants, do you think it will work?  
You're mad. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it.  
Well, we thought it would be worth a try. I'll give you some time to yourself. Someone will bring you food in an hour or so.  
Again, the door opened and closed. Scott was alone.  
**********  
Dr. Dean, head of the team, searched his notes and sketches for flaws. He couldn't find any, and he felt most excited. So far the experiments had been small, just as expected, and he had certainly not thought that they would come up with a real solution this quickly. Then again, he had always known that Dr. Finn was a brilliant woman.  
Ronnie, come and look at this, he said to Dr. Sawyer, who immediately left his own work. Betty has thought of an operation to perform on the male subject. Isn't it ingenious?  
Dr. Sawyer looked at the notes, frowning, and Dr. Dean felt he had to explain further.  
She and Duke have construced a crystal that we will place right *there*. I want you to assist. He pointed with his pencil and gave Dr. Sawyer a questioning glance.  
I understand. But Jason it looks a bit risky.  
Risky? No, no, not at all. The energy doesn't actually reach dangerous impact until it meets the eye. The procedure should be completely safe.  
That's not what I meant. If we start messing around with his optic nerve, isn't there a danger of scarring it?  
Dr. Dean looked thoughtful. But I do believe it's a risk worth taking.  
Dr. Sawyer opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to say anything, his boss continued: So, how's the quiltmaking going?  
fine, Dr. Sawyer said. Heather is making progress, I think. It was actually too early to tell whether the transplants were working or not, but at least the girl's body didn't resist them. She tested the removed skin, and it shows no more dramatic characteristics than the blood, which indicates that it's not the skin itself that causes the effects. Of course, this could also mean that the transplants will be dominated by her mutation.  
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Dr. Dean said mirthfully. No other problems with the girl?  
No, she's fine. Not entirely happy, perhaps, but that could hardly be expected.  
**********  
Logan stopped short outside the mansion and stared at Jean. Now, that was something he had tended to do more than once, but not for the same reason. She must have noticed him, because she stopped the fierce raking and turned to him, her face all flushing and sweaty.  
she snapped.  
Jeannie, when you rake a gravelled path, you usually do it to spread the gravel around, not to destroy it It wasn't even her job to rake the paths, and she didn't seem to be very good at it. Are you okay?  
Jean tossed the rake aside and sighed. Scott will be back soon, after ten days without a phone call, she said shortly. She wasn't very fond of the idea of discussing her lovelife with Logan of all people.  
Logan wasn't exactly thrilled, either. On the other hand, he would have wanted some updates on how Rogue was doing, so this was kind of his problem too. You're mad at him.  
You could say that. I have to keep working so I don't kill him when he comes home.  
Her eyes wandered to the road outside. She began to feel more worried than angry, not for the first time. They should have been back already.  
**********  
Scott woke up with a pounding headache that made him want to throw up. Something was different. Fighting back the nausea he suddenly realised that nothing covered his eyes. The ties around his wrists and ankles were still there, and some kind of bandage around his head, but not the blindfold. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.  
No beams came out, and the blackness was so massive he wondered to himself if he had actually opened them. He tried blinking a few times. No change. Were they keeping him under earth, or what was wrong?  
When the door opened without making the room any lighter, the truth finally dawned on him, and the panic it caused was so strong he could no longer stop himself from vomiting. *Please, God,* he thought, *not this! Anything but this, God, you know I can't take it!*  
Someone was tilting his body so he wouldn't choke, and when his stomach settled he tried to see through the dark to know who it was.  
Oh my God! A shocked whisper. When the voice continued, Scott recognized it as Dr. Sawyer's. I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen.  
Then do something, Scott said silently. When he got no answer, he yelled: DO SOMETHING!  
Dr. Sawyer licked his lips. He wasn't sure there was anything they *could* do. I'll try, he promised. When he had cleaned up Scott's bed he hurried to the door, trying to find someone that could help.  
Dr. Dean just passed by and turned to his younger colleague with a smile.  
Ah, Ronnie! How's the subject doing?  
Not well. The operation wasn't entirely successful. The only thing that stopped him from saying *I told you so* was the gravity of the situation.  
Dr. Dean looked worried. The beams aren't blocked?  
Yes. They are. But so is his vision. He looked at Dr. Dean waiting for a suggestion on what to do, how to undo this failed experiment.  
Ah. Pity. Well, the important thing is that the mutation is gone, isn't it?  
Dr. Sawyer stared at him.  
Isn't it?  
**********  
Rogue hated lying alone in the hospital room, but she hated the times the door opened even more. Sometimes it meant food, but most of the time it meant people taking little bits and pieces away from her, or letting mice run over her body. Last time they had let a mouse stand on the new sore skin, the foreign skin, it had lived for almost a minute, but it had died nevertheless.  
When Dr. Sawyer came in, she automatically checked what he carried. No mice, thankfully, and not any needles either, that she could see. Just folded-up doctor's clothes. She frowned. What were they up to this time?  
You look fine today, he said. His voice was cheerful. Too cheerful. A lot better than your friend next door.  
Next door! During all this time, she had never been able to find out where Scott was. Now she was told in a by-the-way manner, as if it wasn't even important. Which it probably wasn't, since she still couldn't get to him.  
I'll just check on your straps, he said, leaning down next to her face. She prayed for him to lean down a little longer, enough to touch her. It wouldn't help, but she would feel so much better fighting back. They were always wearing latex gloves when they were near her.  
Then she heard him whisper: Lie still until I leave the room.  
Before she could figure out what to make of that, the strap around her right wrist was loosened. Dr. Sawyer wasn't checking the straps. He was removing them.  
Yup, looks fine. He moved towards the door and made a small motion towards the table where he had put the clothes. She watched him leave.  
As soon as he had left she sat up and swung her legs down. They tingled a little, since she had been lying down for so long, but they worked. She hurried to the table. Two doctor's coats in different sizes, two pair of trousers, one pair of latex gloves and most beautiful of all, a bunch of keys. She almost cried out in delight. Maybe it was a trap, but it was the only chance she had. With shivering hands, she put on the clothes. She wasn't too happy about the latex gloves, but she understood that they were necessary if she didn't want to hurt Scott by mistake. If she ever got out of this place, she would never get near latex gloves again for the rest of her life.  
She opened the door carefully, checking the corridors for people. Nobody there. Now, next door, but left or right? She chanced for right and put a key in the lock. Wrong one. When the next one was wrong too, she forced herself to take a close look at the keys. Think logically. Which one could it be?  
Third key turned around easily in the lock. Bingo.  
Opening the door, she found Scott lying on a bed by the window, and she sighed with relief. It surprised her that his eyes were uncovered, but what really shocked her was that he seemed to be crying. She had never seen him cry, and not really thought him capable of it.  
she asked, uncertainly.  
His eyes met hers. Only they didn't. Rogue lost her breath.  
Disbelief in his voice.  
Not trusting her voice she nodded, only to realise he couldn't see it. she said. I'm getting you out of here.  
Scott felt his arms and legs be untied. He would have thought he was daydreaming if it hadn't been for the horrible darkness that surrounded him. This was real, Rogue was really setting him free.  
How did you get here? he asked.  
One of the doctors let me go. I don't know why. Rogue was on the verge of crying. She had hoped that once she had released Scott, he would put on the fearless leader act and get them both out. She hadn't counted on him being in a worse condition than herself.  
She didn't have much choice but to keep up her courage. Trembling, she handed him the clothes. Put these on. For a moment she wondered if she ought to help him, but decided not to. This was already the scariest moment of her life. Helping the leader of the X-men dress himself would most certainly push her over the edge. Fortunately, he managed to get it done by himself so quickly that it made her wonder if he always dressed without looking.  
Okay, let's go, she said, moving for the door and holding his hand. Before she could turn the handle he pressed her hand, hard.  
he whispered. There's someone outside.  
Even in this state, his voice carried some of his usual authority, so Rogue just stopped short and held her breath. Listening carefully, she could hear footsteps and low voices. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed her departure yet, but stepping out right in front of them would probably make them suspicious.  
They're gone. Come on!  
**********  
Somehow, with joined efforts, they managed to get through the corridors. Rogue found that in spite of what she had first feared, she didn't have to get by on her own. Sure, she had to lead Scott through the building and help him hide when necessary, but *he* was more often than not the one to realize it was necessary. All the battle training he had gone through hadn't left him, and since his eyes had always been his weakness as well as strength he had long since learned how to listen. Unfortunately, luck and skill only lasted them so long.  
Hey! What are you doing?  
After that they had to count on running.  
Rounding a corner they ran into a doctor before any of them had time to stop. Damn. Rogue was getting ready to unglove herself when she saw that it was Dr. Sawyer.  
You try to stop us I swear I'll kill you, she said.  
I won't. The young man pointed across his own shoulder. Last door to the left is an exit. Hurry on and I'll stall them.  
She looked at him, trying to figure out what was going through his head. Why'd you change your mind so sudden? she asked.  
His answer was low. We were supposed to give you a better life. How can maimed be better? We all had good intentions but I guess it's true what they say about good intentions.  
Her hand automatically went to her bandaged arm. A lifetime without touch had been bad. This violation was definitely not better. She would have wanted to thank him for helping them, but she couldn't. He had been one of the people putting mice on her skin and needles in her veins, and by the look on Scott's face, he wasn't exactly innocent to Scott's miseries either. So instead, she just turned and ran.  
Dr Sawyer watched them leave and turned around, determined to buy them all the time he could. A few steps later, Dr. Chandler was in his way.  
Have you seen them? she asked.  
The subjects? He shook his head. I've searched this corridor. They're not here.  
She watched his face closely.  
How did they manage to escape, Ronnie? You were the last one in, you must have some idea.  
Damn, he wasn't a good liar.  
Two of the other doctors hurried up, and she spoke to them without turning her eyes from Dr. Sawyer. Duke, Mac, look through this corridor. Her voice was mild as she continued: You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ronnie?  
He knew that voice. His cover was blown, and he tried arguments. Listen Heather, we were wrong. All those things we were doing just made things worse.  
What a lack of confidence! she said. Are you feeling depressed?  
Depressed!? We blinded a man, Heather! We turned a girl into patchwork! Depressed doesn't even cover it. Jesus, Heather, thinking of what I have done  
Guilt isn't a very healthy emotion, she said. It sounds to me like you're having a nervous breakdown. But don't worry, we're going to help you.  
**********  
Rogue panted and pushed Scott through the same. Thank God it wasn't locked.  
She was surprised at how pleasant the place looked from the outside. Those gates weren't exactly a pleasant sight, though, high and guarded as they were. Quickly, she drew Scott away around a corner.  
I don't know how to get out of here, she said. The gates are guarded.  
What do the fences look like? he asked.  
No fences really, just a high hedge and some chicken wire.  
A look of satisfaction came upon his face. Good. Any cars?  
A couple I don't think any of these keys are car keys, though.  
But they're attached to something? He held out his hand, and she gave him the keys. A piece of wire.  
Perfect. Take me there.  
She pulled him with her to the nearest car, heart beating so fast it hurt. They were going to get caught, she just knew they were. What are you going to do?  
He didn't answer. Instead he rolled the coat around his hand and jammed his fist right through the backseat window. Stretching his arm forward he unlocked the driver's door.  
Get inside and open for me, he said, moving over to the other side of the car. I hope you can drive.  
I can, she said, doing as he said. But we still don't have any keys.  
We don't need any, he replied. When he had seated himself he locked his door and began to straighten out the wire that attached the keys. Lock on your side, he said. They're bound to have heard the window break.  
Rogue looked in the rear view mirror and saw people running towards them. Then she heard the beautiful sound of a motor starting. Her foot reached for the gas pedal.  
Get up as fast a speed as you can, he ordered her. Go around in circles if you have to. Then drive through the hedge. If you do it fast enough it's not going to hurt the car.  
As she made the car accelerate she actually began to feel strangely excited, and when they had pushed through the hedge she actually gave out a laugh. The laboratory people were getting into cars themselves, but she still started to feel like they could actually make it away from there. Her gaze fell on the makeshift skeleton key Scott had made.  
I never knew you could pick a lock, she said. What are you, some kind of MacGyver?  
His face was stern and he didn't answer her attempt to joke, only requested: Drive as fast as you can and don't stop for anything. Try to lose them.  
Gee, as if that wasn't what she was trying to do. Some emotion that could have been Logan's came up in her head and growled at him. If they weren't being chased and if she didn't have to spend all her energy driving, she probably would have slapped him. This was like a car chase on TV, except for real and much worse, because she knew what those followers were capable of. At least there weren't any police cars.  
Scott? What do we do if the police try to stop us?  
Keep driving, I guess, he said. We're never going to be able to explain this.  
That made sense in a way, but she didn't like it. But you know, a couple of mutants in a stolen car that get into trouble with the police they just might try and kill us.  
Scott mumbled something.  
Rogue's eyes widened for a second, then she concentrated on the road, telling herself she must have misheard. This was Scott Summers, after all. Blinded and in a crappy condition, but still the fearless leader of the X-men. The respected teacher with the uncrackable surface, the guy who never showed his emotions if there was anything he could do about it. He wouldn't even kiss Jean if people were watching. Cool, calm and untouchable.  
Scott Summers would never have said .  
**********  



	2. 

**********  
Finally the time came when Rogue could find no suspected cars anywhere near them.  
We lost them, she said. When she slowed down and looked outside, she realised something else. But I have no idea where we are.  
Scott rested his head in his hands, trying to ignore the headache. Now was not a good time to get carsick. He *never* got carsick, he told his stomach. His hand stung a little and made his face wet. He must have cut himself on the glass, in spite of the coat.  
Look for signs and tell me when you find one, he said.  
She sat silently for a while watching the road, wishing there was something she could say to him. Right now, what she wanted more than anything else was to be rocked like a baby and told that everything would be alright. It wasn't fair, she shouldn't have to be on the run like this. None of them had deserved this.  
She scorned herself for her childish thoughts. Fair had nothing to do with it.  
When she saw a sign she almost jumped. There's one! 5 miles to New Castle. Is that close? Being a southerner, she had never learned much New York geography.  
Well, it's Westchester. He thought for a while. Okay, try finding a small road, but keep track of how you're driving so you don't get lost. Whatever you do, stay off the highway, that's the last place we want to be with a stolen car.  
she said, doing as she was told.   
  
It's getting dark.  
He grabbed her arm. Where's the sun?  
She was taken by surprise. That way. She could have bitten her tongue off. Sorry. Behind us.  
Okay, stop. We're going in the wrong direction.  
She pulled over. Maybe we should stop for the night. We could need some food She looked down on her strange appearance. Not to mention some other clothes.  
And probably a vehicle that wasn't stolen, he snapped. What do you want to do, knock on someone's door and say: 'Excuse me, we're two mutants on the run, can you take care of us please?' He regretted that remark as soon as he had said it. This was most certainly not Rogue's fault, and a good leader never made his teammates suffer the consequences of a bad mood. But the darkness got to him so badly he could hardly even think.  
Rogue hesitated. She had a suggestion, but she knew Scott wouldn't like it.  
I could steal some. Clothes, I mean.  
His mouth twisted a little. What, from a clothesline?  
I could absorb someone, very briefly, and take their clothes. She spoke in a quiet voice; she didn't like the thought one bit.  
Never use your power against an unarmed human. Well, in his case that wasn't even a possibility anymore. And in hers desperate times needs desperate measures. He knew what it took for her to even suggest such a thing.  
You can still do it? he asked, not quite able to suppress the envy.  
She really didn't want to talk about that, but part of her wanted him to know. They took pieces of my skin away, but it didn't make any difference.  
What do you reply to something like that? *I'm sorry*? Okay, but be careful.  
I will.  
Rogue walked back to the main road, slowly taking her gloves off and keeping watch for any car to pass by. Since she could never pass for innocent hitchhiker she decided on madwoman and starting pacing to and fro by the road. Surely sooner or later someone would be compassionate or curious enough to stop.  
Two trucks passed her by, accelerating when they saw her. Part of her was grateful. Even though her powers let her take down anyone with a touch, truck drivers still intimidated her. A few minutes later, a passenger car pulled over, and a man stepped out of it. Rogue began to mutter to herself, while her heart pounded away. Let's try those acting abilities.  
Hey, girl, are you alright? The stranger's voice was tender. Rogue did a frightened animal thing: jumped, turned around and stared at the man with big scared eyes. He was about Scott's size. Good. Trouble was, that still left *her* without proper clothes.  
The man approached her slowly, hands held out in a friendly gesture. When he had come close enough, she grabbed on of his hands and waited until he gasped for breath before she let go. The guilt she felt immediately disappeared when his thoughts reached her mind. What a sleaze. Quickly, she put on her gloves and started undressing the man. That was not something she had done before, and certainly not something she thought she would experience like this. Fortunately, he was a sleaze in warm clothing. Shirt, sweater *and* jacket, that meant enough for both her and Scott. If only he had worn two pair of pants as well. Of course, she would look strange in pants that size anyway.  
When she was done, she stuffed the man inside the car with some difficulty, then looked around for food. None in the glove compartment, but there was a bag on the floor. She dug through it and found a big French bread with ham and mustard. Her stomach rumbled happily, and she hurried back to Scott. His head jerked up when he heard her approach. It felt eerily surreal to see those sightless eyes instead of the usual ruby-red mirror image.  
It's me, she said. She handed him the upper half of the bread and he immediately took a bite, showing that he was just as hungry as she was.  
I thought you were going for clothes? he said.  
I took his clothes too, but I figured this was more urgent.  
His lips cracked in one of those rare smiles that made the girls in class fall down dead. Good thinking.  
**********  
They slept in the car that night. Tomorrow they would have to leave it and start walking. It would be difficult, since Rogue didn't have any shoes, but a whole lot safer than hitch-hiking. They were pretty easily recognized and had better stay away from people as much as possible.  
It was hard to sleep for both of them. Scott managed to doze off for a few minutes, but waking up from a nightmare and finding himself in impenetrable darkness was so painful and frightening that he didn't dare to fall asleep again. He choked a sob and moved uneasily to find a more comfortable position. Rogue had gotten the backseat, and he hoped she had managed to sleep better than he had. It didn't seem like it, though. When he lay still and listened he heard her quiet sobs, and something else as well, a sound smaller than the nibbling of a mouse. It took him a while to figure out what it was. She was clawing her own skin. No, not her own, the foreign skin.  
he whispered. Are you okay?  
Her hands stilled, and she took a deep, uneven breath. She wasn't okay, not at all, she hadn't been less okay since the day she discovered her mutation.  
I miss Logan, she said, and then wondered why *that* had been the first thing to come out of her mouth. It wasn't exactly something Scott would appreciate, everyone knew that he and Logan was far from friends.  
Actually, Scott didn't mind, because he recognized that sense of longing in her voice. It was the same longing that had been in his thoughts since he woke up. And I miss Jean. At least we have each other. I couldn't have done this alone.  
Me neither, she said. She was grateful for his company, but couldn't quite put that into words. Instead she reached out with a question that wouldn't leave her mind. Will it ever be alright? The pain had to lessen, she couldn't live on feeling this violated.  
Scott didn't answer that at first, he had to fight the tears. The only thing that kept him sane in this darkness was to avoid the thought that it might last forever. God, Rogue, I really hope so.  
She sat up and leaned forward, giving him her hand that was still clad in that despicable latex glove. As touches go, it wasn't perfect, but she needed it anyway. Part of her suspected that he might need it too. He pressed her hand gently and leaned backwards so that they could keep some sort of sleeping position while still holding onto each other. It didn't cure their insomnia or heal the pain. It just relieved it.  
**********  
Jean turned the key and opened the door to the cabin, reaching out with her mind for Scott. There was nothing. Her eyes wandered around the room and found it as neat and tidy as it used to be between visits. They're not here. But then where were they? They should have been back three days ago.  
Logan sniffed the air, and a deep frown formed on his brow. They haven't been here either. I can't smell them.  
Jean's concern turned into pure anxiety. Are you sure? Maybe the scent has just worn off.  
He shook his head. No, I can smell 'Ro and Bobby, vaguely, but nothing at all from Scott or Rogue. His fists clinched. A long time ago, he had promised to take care of Rogue. Good job he was doing, if she could be missing for two weeks before he reacted.  
That's it, I'm calling home. Jean picked up her cellphone and called the number for Xavier's office. Her hands was shaking when she waited for the professor to answer.  
Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, Charles Xavier speaking.  
It's Jean. I'm at the cabin, but they're not here, and Logan says they haven't been here at all.  
There was a long silence in the other end of the line. She knew her thoughts wandered in the same direction hers had: that this meant they had been gone for almost two whole weeks. A lot can happen in two weeks.  
I'll try to find them with Cerebro, he finally said.  
Okay. Call us back when you find them. *If* he found them. After all, there was a possibility that Cerebro wouldn't pick up their brainwaves - because there was nothing to pick up. Good luck.  
Jean put away the phone reluctantly. She would have wanted the professor there, he was the one person who cared for Scott as deeply as she did. But she guessed she had to settle for Logan. She sat down next to him on the sofa, and he turned to her with a look in his eyes she had never seen before.  
Do you believe in God, Jeannie?  
I guess, she said. It wasn't something she gave a lot of thought to.  
Can you help me pray for my Marie, then? I don't know how to do it alone.  
Most of the time, he used Rogue's nickname like everyone else. In this caressing way to use her real one, there was more love and despair than she could ever have expected from the rough Canadian.  
Of course. She took his hand and with stumbling words and chaotic thoughts she tried to pray with him for the next couple of hours. *Let them be alive, let them be okay. Let us find them.* When the phone finally rang, they both jumped. Jean looked at Logan, her thoughts torn between hope and fear. If the professor had found them this quickly, it meant they were alive and not far away. But what if they were hurt? What if they were prisoners? What if  
Answer it, he pleaded, and she took up the phone.  
  
I found them. They're between New Castle and Bedford, heading east.  
Are they okay? Jean was almost afraid to ask, and Xavier's hesitation told her all she needed to know.  
They're alive and heading home. That's good news.  
**********  
Rogue felt awful waking up, but preferred this wake-up to any for the past two weeks. Looking up, she found that Scott wasn't in the car. She rose so quickly she bumped her head on the roof, but when all the little stars had cleared she could see Scott standing nearby, apparently washing his face in a rain barrel. She hadn't even noticed there was one. Stretching her still-sleeping legs, she left the car and walked up to him.  
  
He turned to her. There was no point in asking if she had slept well. Neither of them had. I was thinking. We definitely want to dump the car, and we should probably get off the road altogether. Do you mind some walking?  
She looked down on her feet that were just wearing socks.   
He frowned. I didn't think of that. He sounded annoyed, as if it was a crime to not think of everything. Considering their situation, it probably was. Well, at least it's warm.  
Most likely, it would proceed to downright hot before the day was over. It's okay, I can walk barefoot. It won't go fast, though.  
He gave her a strained smile. Won't go fast no matter what.  
They had never been friends before any of this happened, but now it hurt to see that smile. Gently she reached out for his hand and cursed latex when he winced just a little. Of course, his associations must be as bad as hers. She never wanted to get near another doctor for the rest of her life.  
Although uncomfortable, walking was better than the car. The mind-numbing adrenaline left their bodies and allowed space for thoughts. Maybe the car was better after all. She tried to keep her mind on coming home, forcing happy thoughts on herself, but she found none. They said nothing as they walked along the road, some distance away but still following it. The only thing on their minds was not something they wanted to put into words.  
At first, Rogue's steps were uneasy and hesitant, but soon her soles picked up the memories of all those summers she had walked barefoot as a kid, and she increased her pace as much as she could without making things difficult for Scott. He looked as stern and determined as ever, back straight in the leader position, but now and then he had a slight stumble and his jaw tightened. Since he was determined not to show her any sign of weakness, she never mentioned it and never made a big deal out of waiting for him.  
After a few hours, she spotted a gas station and felt a little relieved. Not only did she really need to get some weight off her feet, but she was getting quite hungry, too. Places like these usually had food.  
There's a gas station ahead. Is it okay if I go buy us something to eat?  
Scott was surprised. Where did you get money? A thought struck him.   
He only had about fifty bucks, but it's better than nothing. There wasn't much point in talking of ethics. Safety was their primary concern.  
Okay. Do it. I think I'd better stay behind, though, we don't want any attention.  
How could he be so calm?   
And Rogue if they have a phone, try calling the professor.  
I will.  
Leaving Scott, she went to the gas station and walked up to the counter inside. She silently pep-talked herself to not be afraid. She had done this before, all the way from Mississippi to Canada. Only, then she wasn't quite as aware of what people would do to mutants. Trying to keep her voice clear, she spoke to the clerk and managed to order some chicken sandwiches and drinks to go. There was no reason he would look twice at her, she told herself. She had taken off her gloves before entering, and the white in her hair, as well as her lack of shoes, could just be some sort of trend.  
He handed her a plastic bag. Anything else?  
Do you have a phone I can use?  
He nodded towards a corner. Over there.  
As she dialed the number, the meaningless mumble from the radio suddenly became words she needed to listen to.  
found in his car robbed of clothes and money. The man has suffered some sort of attack, but the doctors are not sure if this happened before the robbery or as a result of the same. According to his wife, the man had been wearing a worn, red denim jacket with star-shaped buttons, a grey sweater  
Rogue's eyes met the clerk's, and she saw that he was looking at the jacket she was wearing. Her mouth got dry. Don't evoke suspicion. There must be several similar jackets, he had no reason to think but she couldn't stop the feeling that she was going to faint any minute.  
The professor's voice in the phone.  
She slowly put the earphone back in its place, pretending it had been a busy line. Without any hurry, she walked through the room, across the yard in front — and then ran as if chased by fire. When she got back to Scott, she grabbed him by the sleeve since she hadn't had time to put her gloves on, and pulled him with her. Run! Come on!  
Not until after ten minutes did she dare to stop, sinking down on the ground, exhausted. At least she still had the food.  
Scott was still standing up, distressed. What happened?  
The radio They talked about the man I absorbed, describing his clothes. I think the clerk suspected something. I panicked.  
You *think* the clerk suspected something? She was surprised at his biting tone of voice. Looking up at his pale face she realised that he had thought the hospital people had found them again. Since he was so cool-headed and collected, it was hard to remember that if she didn't tell him what was going on, he had no way of knowing.  
I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted.  
The tension in his shoulders eased a little. Don't think about it. Do you have the food?  
Yes. Couldn't make the call, though.  
Scott waved it away as unimportant. Right now he didn't know if he wanted to return. The X-men felt further away than the moon.  
**********  
Figures that it would start raining, Rogue said later that day. Her feet were beginning to ache, and her arms always were.  
Well, when it's this hot it really doesn't matter, Scott said.  
It won't be hot tonight, and the sun is almost setting.  
In one way it didn't surprise him, since he felt like the day ought to have been over several hours ago. He had just stopped thinking evening would ever come. Alright, try to find some place we can spend the night.  
I know a woman in Bedford I'd like to spend it with. Best lay on the east coast. Rogue was too tired to stop those words from getting out, but she quickly bit her lip.  
Scott frowned. He knew that wasn't Rogue speaking, but it didn't quite sound like Logan either, and the Logan part of her was getting weaker anyway. The guy you absorbed?  
Rogue blushed.   
No, I'm sorry that I let you go through that. She was just a kid after all, what right did he have to ask this much of her? *Face the facts, Summers, you're losing it. Without her, you wouldn't have managed a single mile.*  
It wasn't that bad, really. It wasn't, comparatively. The stranger might be a sleaze, but his presence in her head was a delight compared to those tiny little cold minds of sixteen dead mice. And you didn't *let* me go through with it, it was my idea. You're not responsible for everything, you know.  
But you shouldn't have to be. He walked straight ahead, without revealing any emotions, and she couldn't very well start cuddling him senseless when she never had before. Everything she did she needed him there to double check, to use his experience and authority. So maybe he wasn't at his strongest, but he was everything that stopped her from going to pieces. She wished she could tell him that, but with his defences up like this, she simply didn't know the way. Fortunately, she found something else to talk about.  
There's a clear-felled area to the right with some sort of worker's shack. It looks deserted. Hardly the driest place to spend the night, but better than nothing.  
He followed her to the place. It had a pad lock, but the door was so rotten Scott could break it open. It was barely big enough for the two of them to lie down in, and Rogue lay down almost in Scott's lap, hoping she wouldn't accidentally touch his skin during the night. It was comfortable being this close, though, and warm.  
Not much privacy, Scott said, smiling a little. His voice indicated he didn't object to the situation any more than she did.  
Won't get as cold, though, she pointed out.  
True. Considering I'm from Alaska it's surprising what a wimp I am when it comes to cold. His light tone told her he was more than exaggerating. Any real character flaw he would never readily admit.  
When he mentioned Alaska she recalled her old plan of travelling there, and she recalled the things that had taken away the girl she had been back then. It wasn't a comfortable thought, so she shuddered a little, and he half-consciously put an arm around her. Once again, things had changed too fast for her to understand. After this terrible ordeal, in the despair she was in, Scott's arm around her felt like the most natural thing in the world. Not anything like what it might be like if Bobby ever held her like that, and not even like Logan's ever-comforting strength, but the sombre consolation of someone who knew what she was going through.  
Carefully, she pulled away the bandages from her arms. She hadn't dared to look at them in daylight, but this grey night was more merciful, only hinted the lines and scars. Her gloved fingers followed the sore new skin she hated so much, and she cried to herself. She was just about to start hurting herself again when a firm hand took hers aside, holding it in a gentle grip. To return the caress, she pulled her fingers through his hair, holding his face between her hands. Any other time they would have shied those touches, afraid that they would be over-interpreted, seen as something other than what they were.  
A simple statement from both of them. *Don't worry about perfection. You're here, that's enough. We're all we have.*  
**********  
Jean's cellphone rang as they were driving along the 684. It was the professor.  
I got a phone call I'm almost certain was from Rogue. She hung up before saying something, but I called the number on the display. It seems they're staying close to the highway, but not quite on it. See if you can trace them. He gave her some directions, and she thanked him. Trace them — in other words, pull over now and then so Logan can take a sniff. Not a problem. Anything, as long as it gave results.  
The search was slow and unsatisfying. It seemed like everyone from Britney Spears to the pope had been on the highway, just not the people they were looking for. Neither of them could give up. The idea to stop never came up, not even when it was well past midnight. They only changed driver and went on, stopping now and then to check it out.  
Jean couldn't believe it when, by the time the skies had gotten lighter again, Logan finally said: They've been here.  
She had heard, she just wanted to hear it again.  
They've been here. Went that way. He didn't even have time to stop before she had returned to the car, driving it into the tiny road he pointed out. A few seconds of stopping to let him in was all she allowed herself.  
She sensed it when they reached them, just as much as he did. That bond that had been missing in her mind was finally back, and she hardly dared to believe it. Her heart was pounding away as they approached the tiny shack and looked inside.  
Scott and Rogue had both heard the car coming, but by the time they realised it was actually *stopping* too, it was too late to run. They rose and stood with their backs towards the wall. Rogue pulled off her gloves, preparing for a fight, but when she saw the faces of the people coming in, her arms fell down.   
Logan didn't need to hear his name said twice, his enhanced senses had already told him everything he needed to know. Within a split second, he had his arms around Rogue.  
Don't ever scare me like that again, you hear me, kiddo? he said, shaking her softly. He could feel every one of her sobs against his chest, and he knew he was crying too. It didn't matter. What have you been up to anyway, I thought One-eye was supposed to His glance fell at Scott and his voice dropped. Jesus Christ! he whispered.  
Jean was frozen by the door, staring numbly at her lover, but Logan's reaction told her that she wasn't delusional. she asked, weakly.  
His face turned in her direction, finally able to focus on something in the chaos. Oh Jean! Part of him wanted to throw himself at her. He had missed her more than anything ever, but then there was pride, and uncertainty, and ultimately he just stood there, not knowing what to do.  
Her hand stroke his face. How he loved that hand! His own touched it, followed the arm and finally he held her like he wanted to.  
What happened to you? She was crying. Who did this?  
No, there was no way he could talk about it. A run-in with Odysseus, I guess.  
Rogue said quietly. I don't know who they said they wanted to cure mutants  
Logan looked down on her, shocked. He had assumed that she was alright because she seemed like it, but now she silently rolled up her sleeve and took the bandages aside to show him her arm. His reaction told her everything she needed to know. She was repulsive. Slowly, she took a few steps away from him, to the door. If she could, she would have run away, but there was nowhere to go, and she wanted to rest at last. The car. She could see it from where she was standing. She would go and sit down in the car, and Jean would drive her home.  
Jean took Scott's hand. Come on, she said gently.  
He hesitated. Going home would mean getting off the road and the run, to be back with Jean and the ones he loved. But it would also mean that every single one of the X-men and the students would know that he had been broken. That it was possible to break him. He didn't object when Jean lead him inside the car, but he wondered to himself what would happen with the two of them now. At least if the surgery could be reversed things could perhaps go back to normal, but  
Don't think about it. Don't even let the possibility enter your mind. You're going back. The nightmare is over.  
**********  
Xavier reached out with his mind to his two wounded wards. Neither of them had really wanted to talk about what had happened, and it seemed wise to leave it at that, but he had to make sure that they weren't too bad off.  
They had both fiercely refused medical care at first, but eventually Scott had agreed to let Jean take a couple of head scans, as long as she let it stay at that. I can't have an examination, he had explained, note short the way it always was when he had to admit lack of perfection. Even if I know it's you, I just can't. Rogue had refused altogether, claiming she was going to take a shower. When Xavier found that she had done as she said, his first impulse was to leave it at that. He was certainly not one to disturb a lady in her shower. Soon, however, he abandoned that thought as he heard what went through her mind. As fast as he could, he went to her room and knocked on the door.  
Rogue? Will you please let me in?  
There was no answer. He could hear the water streaming inside and he knew that wasn't all.  
Rogue, let me in!  
When he still got no response he silently asked for forgiveness and redirected the order into thought. Soon he heard footsteps inside and Rogue opened the door for him. It struck him that he ought to have ordered her to put something on, but right now, that was hardly their primary concern. He hurried to enter her room and close the door behind him.  
You shouldn't have done it, she said, tears streaming down her face. I got the right to some privacy.  
I'm sorry.  
She turned back for the bathroom, but he didn't try to stop her. All she wanted was something to cover up her body. She wouldn't return to her previous action. When she had come back, he just watched her silently for a short while, waiting for her to start talking.  
I didn't try to kill myself. The statement was flat.  
I know. If you did, you would have cut on the inside. He watched her arms with the half-healed scars and new bleeding cuts. They weren't even all that deep, but the flow of blood was more than enough to stain the towel she was wearing.  
I just The shower didn't help. I thought I'd get clean, but I didn't. She started to claw at her arms. I just want to get rid of it all.  
Rogue, stop it. He couldn't stand the sight of her hurting herself, and didn't know what to do about it. Telepathy and psychology isn't quite the same thing.  
It hadn't been an order, but she stopped just the same, resting her bleeding arms in her lap.  
I think you should let Jean take a look at you.  
Her voice was sharp.  
It's only going to scar worse if you don't.  
She cradled up to a ball, moaning quietly, and he tried to keep her calm, keep himself calm, as he continued:  
What if Logan was with you? Could you go through with it then?  
She shook her head, rocking back and forward. Don't want see me like this she mumbled.  
Xavier agreed, still keeping his voice down. Scott, then? Would that be better?  
The rocking stopped. He hates it too.  
Hates what?  
The doctors. Latex. That smell.  
Do you want him there? Do you think you could do it if he was there?  
A faint reply, almost inaudible.   
**********  
Jean moved away from the computer, but the image from the screen stayed in her mind. She turned to face Scott, wishing he'd let her examine him, sew up his hand, do *anything* for him. But the only thing he let her do was bring him bad news.  
They have placed some sort of crystal in your brain. I can't quite figure out how it's made, but it seems part of it is the usual ruby quartz and part is some electric device. She rubbed her forehead. After what you said, I don't think they intended to damage the optic nerve, but they did, and it can't heal as long as that thing's in there.  
He didn't like that tone in her voice, and tried to sort out the emotions that she sent him. Can you take it away, then?  
I'm not a neuro surgeon, she said quietly. If I went in, I'd only hurt you more. You need an expert.  
Fine. A medical expert willing to perform an operation that would restore a mutant's powers. Not very many of those. It still wasn't enough for Jean to be so scared. There's more, isn't it?  
There was, but the rest was so frightening even for her she didn't know how she could possibly tell him. Even if it is removed She could barely get the words through, and studdered on the next sentence. there are lots of scars It might not be Oh, God, she couldn't say it.  
She didn't have to. Her thoughts were so clear they stunned Scott. If she hadn't been a telepath, there could have been a possibility for him to misinterpret what she tried to say through those broken sentences. Now there wasn't. He could sense her fear and grief, and recognized it as the thought he had tried to fight away for the last few days, the possibility he had denied because he couldn't stand it. Faced with the horrible truth he could no longer dodge into that lie, but he couldn't cope with it either, couldn't deal with the emotions — not hers, not his own. The shock was so deep, so hard and painful, he felt like he was drowning, and his entire system fought it, tried to resist it. Summoning all his strength he forced it away, replaced it with high barriers that locked out every emotion, every thought, and left nothing but indifference. His mind went cold, his body numb, and his voice was amazingly calm when he finished her sentence: It might not be possible for it to heal. I could be blind for life.  
If he had cried, gasped for breath, denied it, then maybe it would have been possible for Jean not to lose it, but this flatness in his voice just made all strings break, and tears streamed unchecked down her face.   
**********  
The door opened and they both jumped. Jean turned and faced Rogue, who was standing in the doorway with the professor not far behind. Her appearance was the normal one for a girl who had just stepped out of the shower. The shower of .  
Jean took in the wet hair, the bloodstained towel, the bleeding arms, and nearly lost her breath. This was really too much for one day. Rogue, what on earth  
She had a little accident. Xavier said, trying not to make too much of it. There were too many emotions around already, including his own. Before he had even opened the door, he had known Jean's discoveries, and he grieved for Scott. Reaching out for the young man's mind he found nothing but a big wall of forced emptiness. Walls like that weren't news for him. He had sensed them before, in other people — and once in himself. He might be able to help Scott through this, but not now. This wasn't his battle, and right now it would be better for him to leave and let the others handle their feelings without having to think about his.  
Jean asked when the professor left without further explanation. What kind of accident? Her voice rose to a high pitch.  
Rogue? What's wrong? Scott was worried. That was just so ironically like him, Jean thought, to allow himself to feel for Rogue but not for himself.  
I'm okay. Really, I am. Rogue noticed Jean's distressed face and Scott's tension, and even though she had no mental bonds with either of them, it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was seriously wrong. She started backing. Maybe I shouldn't have come  
Don't you walk out that door! Jean's doctor instincts took over. Come here, sit down. She put on a pair of gloves and Rogue moaned a little at the sound of latex snapping. It didn't help that the gloved hands belonged to Jean, it still made her tense and scared.   
He took a few steps in the direction of her voice. What is it? he asked, concerned, wondering why she called for him and why she was even there.  
Just be here.  
Although it didn't make anything clearer, it calmed him a little. The plea was no different from what she had wanted from him the past few days, which meant it was the hospital-like situation as such, more than any injury, that worried her. I'm here.  
His voice was soothing, even though he still didn't quite know what was going on. Rogue tried to inform him without worrying him: I cut myself a little. No biggie. She wished she could hold his hand. It was childish, maybe, but being close to him made her safer. It didn't matter that he was hurt too; he was her comfort.  
Jean had started cleaning the wounds, and wondered to herself what had caused them. They looked a little too even to be accidental, and her first thoughts went to Logan. But no, Logan would never do anything to hurt the girl. Rogue's own statement had probably been more true. Rogue? Did you do this yourself?  
Rogue sobbed and nodded a little. Jean sighed. Oh, Rogue.  
Do what to yourself? Scott asked, frowning. Rogue was too embarrassed to answer.  
She cut her arms, Jean replied calmly, giving Rogue a shot as she prepared to stitch up the wounds. Looking down at the girl's arms, she couldn't really blame her. They looked awful. What had those people done to her? She stopped herself from taking a look telepathically, because she didn't really think she could stand knowing. Rogue was going through a lot right now, but Jean didn't feel like the one to deal with it. Not the way things were with Scott.  
You didn't. The concern in Scott's voice almost made Jean snap. How could he just pretend that nothing was wrong? She had always known he was an expert at hiding his emotions, but like this?  
Even Rogue realised how completely wrong this conversation was. She tried not to think about Jean's hands sewing up her arms. Scott, are you okay? Stupid question. Stupid, stupid question.  
Of course I am. Don't you worry.  
Jean gave a half-choked sound and turned away. Rogue didn't know whether to cry for Scott or be terribly angry. Why shouldn't she worry, when he worried about her? He had done the same thing when they were on the run, seemingly getting stronger and calmer whenever he really hurt. It had never quite succeeded, though, the strain always shone through, because she knew it was there. Now all that was left was that fasade of normality, that unnatural calm. Unnatural, because there was no way he could be fine. That only left one possible conclusion. Rogue looked up at Jean to get her suspicions confirmed, but although Jean turned back to her, she refused to face her questioning glance and only went back to work. Rogue licked her lips before asking: What did the scans show?  
Jean's voice was low and sorrowful. There's been some damage maybe too much. Her hand trembled a little and she concentrated on making it steady so she wouldn't hurt Rogue. What she wanted to do right now was throw herself on her bed and weep for days, but she had to keep her mind on her work.  
This was her loss, too. It was a horrible, selfish thought, but she couldn't help it, because it was true. Scott's loss was hers, and her tears was for herself as well as for him.  
Rogue's eyes filled with tears, and she couldn't quite keep her voice steady. Oh, Scott, I'm so sorry. After these days they had spent together, she knew there wasn't anything else that frightened him more.  
We don't know anything for certain yet, Scott said reassuringly. You have no reason to worry.  
No reason?! Forget the pity, now she was furious. She jumped down from the bed and didn't care that the latest stitch broke. I have *every* reason to worry! I would never have made it back here alive and sane if you hadn't been there for me! Maybe you don't care for yourself, but I do, I have a *right* to, and I worry about you, Scott!  
His face was as hard to read as ever and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Both the girls watched with suspense, and for a moment it seemed like he would flame her right back, but then he turned for the door. You seem very upset, he said, finding his way. Maybe I'd better leave.  
No! Don't you — but the door had already shut behind him. Rogue sank back to where she was seated and yelled a four-letter word after him. Then it occurred to her that tactless was only the mildest of the words you could use about her behaviour, and she gave Jean a worried glance. Jean had sat down and cried wildly, but it wasn't the tears that made her body shake, it was the laughter between them.  
Rogue's voice was uncertain.  
Oh, Rogue, Jean said, sniffling and giggling at the same time. I don't know whose personality it was you let forward there, but it was a truly refreshening one.  
Rogue stared at her, and in the midst of all anxiety and tension her mouth actually started to twitch a little. Actually, I think it was my own.  
**********  



	3. 

**********  
Jean woke up and turned over, only to find that Scott wasn't in bed. He was sitting in the big armchair by the window, for the third night in a row, leaning his arms on his knees. Probably rattling off the multiplication tables or something.  
Scott? Won't you come to bed?  
He didn't move. In a minute. I'm just thinking.  
It wasn't true, and she knew it. He did it to avoid the thoughts that would come if he tried to relax, to avoid the dreams that came when he fell asleep. Sleeping, he couldn't control himself, and so he had stopped sleeping altogether.  
Scott, please, you have to sleep. You need your strength.  
For what?  
Her heart skipped a beat. Such a simple little question, but it was almost a first step towards admitting his own pain. If she could only get him to open up further! She tried to reach out to him, but he immediately snapped the bond and stood up.  
I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. You're right, I could probably use a little sleep.  
He oriented towards the bed and lay down next to her. His body was tense and didn't soften by her touch. *Scott, please, don't turn away from me*, she pleaded in her thoughts, but his mind was cold and didn't reply.  
**********  
I don't know what to do with him, Jean said to Ororo. She knew it wasn't right to lay the weight on her friend's shoulders, but she had to talk to *somebody*.  
The other woman spun her glass around on the table. She had never asked to be made team leader, and absolutely not under these circumstances, but there she was. He certainly isn't talking to *me*. Oh, not that he's rude or anything. He came up the other day and thanked me for teaching him my lock-picking tricks all that time ago. Said they had been really useful. What was I supposed to tell him? I went with 'you're welcome', but when I tried more serious conversation he just left.   
Jean leaned her face in her hands. I can't stand that he's shutting me out like this. He's so bloody stubborn and always has been! I'm beginning to think even Rogue's way of dealing with this is better than his.  
I heard about that, Ororo said thoughtfully. Logan is climbing the walls because he wasn't there to stop her.  
She must be so miserable, Jean said, shaking her head. I don't know how a person can hurt herself like that. Never seen anything like it.  
Ororo gave her a peculiar glance.  
What? You have?  
I saw a lot of things in Egypt. There was a girl in El Gibar's band, a few years older than me, who was assaulted and raped by some soldiers on leave. She reacted pretty much as Rogue has done. She silenced for a second before asking: Can you do anything about her arms?  
I can try to take away some of the scars, Jean said, but I can't very well remove the transplants. Although Logan has been on to me about that. Everybody's on to me about on thing or another Her voice broke away in profanities before she burst into tears.  
Ororo rose from her seat and cradled Jean in her arms. Jean was her best friend, she only wished there was more she could do.  
Oh, shit, 'Ro, Jean sobbed, and Ororo shushed her calmly. I just I know I should be strong for him, help him, but I can't. All I can think of is everything we were supposed to be doing, the fighting, teaching, all those beautiful rides on his bike and the dates we used to have. We were planning our future together, but now I don't know anything anymore. I don't know if any of that will ever happen. And I feel so terrible, because in a way, it's as if he died, or something. She looked up in her friend's face. I'm sorry. I shouldn't burden you with this.  
No, it's okay. Actually, you crying like this makes me sure I'm not insane. She shook her head and laughed a little. Because when Scott walks into a room, it sure feels like I am, thinking that there's anything wrong with him. He's behaving just like always, and since he put the glasses back on it's almost impossible to tell that anything is different. I mean, put me in a tiny room and I start to hyperventilate. Put Scott in the dark and nothing happens.  
It's not healthy, is it? Jean mumbled, and Ororo sighed.  
Definitely not.  
**********  
Logan watched Rogue, who was sitting by the TV set with Bobby. Or actually, she wasn't sitting there *with* him, she was sitting there, and he was sitting there, but there were miles of awkwardness between them. That wasn't the way it used to be. There were plenty of people who preferred to stay at arm's length from Rogue, because of her powers, but Bobby had never been one of them. He still wasn't, it was Rogue that wouldn't get close to him. She had hardly touched anyone since her return three weeks ago. A few times, with Scott — Logan growled inside at the thought. That was all.  
Now, Logan had never been too keen on the growing relationship between Rogue and Bobby, the kid was too much of a joker for his liking, but Rogue ought to have a social life like all other teenage girls. She had always been a little shy, but this was more than that. was the word she had used the only time he managed to talk to her about it.  
He knew there was more to it than her arms, things she hadn't told him about and probably never would. But that was what he had seen, that was what he could focus on, and it was horrible enough. Not so much the fact that she was patched together so poorly, but that people willingly would do something like that and claim they had good intentions. He couldn't stand the sight, and he knew that she knew it. They were still linked together from the times she had absorbed him, even if the link was getting weaker.  
Something nagged in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite get to the thought.  
He had asked Jean to take away the transplanted skin, but she had told him she couldn't, that Rogue's body wouldn't be able to regrow that much skin. She had looked at him as if that ought to be obvious. How was he supposed to know, in a body that healed any wound within seconds?  
The thought finally reached the top of his head, and he sat straight up, eyes wide. Why hadn't he thought of that before?  
Rogue, can I have a word with you?  
She left her seat and followed him to the other side of the room, where he asked quietly: I was thinking, maybe Jean could remove the transplants and you could absorb me directly afterwards. That way at least your arms would heal.  
She stared at him. But I would hurt you.  
It's not too bad. I've lived through it twice before, I could do it again.  
Tears filled her eyes, but she smiled. She had missed the link as it started to weaken, and the temptation was strong, especially since she hated her patched-up arms so much. Would you do that for me?  
Of course I would, kid. If there was anything I could do to heal it all, I would do that, too. But I guess there isn't.  
She shook her head, slowly. Then, for the first time since she returned, she put her gloved hand in his. Thank you.  
**********  
Scott entered Xavier's office, and slowly and carefully found his way to a chair. Xavier found himself wishing that the guy would just get a cane and have it over with. He had tried telling Scott exactly that, but Scott didn't listen. Couldn't listen, probably. Not as long as he continued to act as if everything was dandy.  
Have you had any luck? Scott asked politely, as if the search for doctors was Xavier's own little game that had nothing to do with him.  
Not yet, I'm afraid. There are a few that might be suitable, but I will have to investigate their attitude towards mutants.  
Scott nodded. What about your friend in San Francisco?  
Willing, but swamped. Xavier said with a sigh. He's booked for more than a year. I put you on the waiting list, of course, but I still think we should look for someone else.  
That sounds like a good idea, Scott answered. Was that all?  
That's all. When Scott rose from his chair, the professor continued in his mind: *You really should get your defences down.*  
Scott smiled. I'm fine, he said out loud. Really, I am.  
He turned and almost bumped into Jean, who entered the room.  
she said. She hadn't known he would be there.  
He stopped for a second, wondering what she had to say to the professor.  
What is it, Jean? Xavier asked.  
I want to take away Rogue's transplants, she said. Logan has agreed to letting her absorb him afterwards so that she can heal properly.  
And Rogue wants this too? Xavier asked.  
Otherwise I wouldn't go through with it.  
Scott, frozen by the door, adressed Jean for the first time. They *want* this? he asked disbelievingly. His voice indicated how painful this would be not only for Logan, but for Rogue as well.  
He's like a brother to her, Jean said.  
His face was completely without expression. I guess so.  
**********  
When Scott got back to his room, he sat down on the bed. His mind, suddenly, refused to go numb and blank the way he had kept it for almost a month. Logan had agreed to let Rogue absorb him, to get his healing abilities. Rogue was going to absorb Logan. Rogue would heal. That was a good thing. That was what Rogue wanted, and he was happy for her.  
Hands shaking, he grabbed the lamp on his night stand and flung it into the nearest wall. The crash was satisfying, and told him that was one lamp that would never be used again. So what, it wasn't as if he needed it. Damn you, Logan! he cried out. *Damn* you! Next, he tossed the night stand over. His breaths were heavy and the tears in his voice almost drowned the cursing.  
He didn't quite know which part pained him the most. That Logan could help Rogue when he couldn't, or that Rogue could be helped when he couldn't. Both thoughts were too painful to bear. In an almost systematic rage he went through the bedroom, destroying it one piece at a time, until the floor was too littered for him to find his way through and he stumbled over something, falling down on the pieces of junk that had been his furniture.  
He hadn't heard the door open, but suddenly Jean's arms were around his body, Jean's hands wiped away his tears, Jean's voice repeated his name over and over as he cried in her arms. Never in his life had he lost control like this, but he was too exhausted to care.  
What's going to happen to me, Jean? he asked desperately. There's nothing I can do anymore. I can't live like this, I don't know how to.  
Yes you can. He could hear that she was crying too. We'll deal with this somehow. You're not alone.  
He clung to her like a child. It's so dark, Jean. It's so terribly dark.  
I know. Every time she had picked up his nightmares, they had been of the dark. He was living his own nightmare, and it pained her so much.  
Don't leave me.  
I won't. I won't ever leave you, Scott. I love you. She held on hard to her lover, feeling his pain and suffering with him, but at the same time she was relieved that he had finally let her in. Maybe now, she would be able to help him.  
**********  
Jean said, leaning down over Rogue. I'm going to put the mask on now. Ready?  
Rogue swallowed. Apart from the fact that she really, *really* hated doctors, there was that uneasy little risk that Logan's powers wouldn't kick in properly before she woke up, in which case it would probably hurt a lot. I guess so.  
She looked away at Scott and Logan, who were sitting a bit further back. She had thought it would be comfortable to have them there, but dressed up in green clothes and masks they just looked like doctors. Good thing Scott was wearing his glasses again. The only use of them now was to cover up his eyes, but they were familiar, unlike almost everything else. While she was still thinking, the men's faces turned into a fuzzy haze, and then her mind drifted off.  
When Jean started to peel off Rogue's skin, Logan wished he hadn't insisted on watching, and he groaned a little.  
What is it? Scott asked nervously.  
  
Then shut up.  
Logan wasn't listening. He looked with fascinated horror at Jean's work.   
Shut up!  
Scott's sharp tone made Logan raise an eyebrow. What's the problem, you getting scared?  
Scott gave a short snort.   
Logan grinned. You *are* getting scared. He felt a little bit better when he could psyche Scott. For a while. Aww, shit  
Now even Jean lost her patience. Logan, if you can't keep quiet, get out. I'll call you back when I'm done.  
No, it's okay, I'll be quiet.  
Logan actually did as he promised, or almost, and Jean could work without further disturbance. After a while she said: Okay, done, you can get over here.  
He hadn't even been aware of the hard grip he held around Scott's arm, but now he let it loosen and only held on enough to assist the younger man to come with him to the operation table. He wasn't very keen on having Scott catching him after Rogue had absorbed him, but no matter how much he would have preferred Jean, she wasn't really strong enough. When he looked down at the raw flesh of Rogue's arms, he knew that was something he wouldn't forget for as long as he lived. It felt completely natural to lean over and kiss her forehead, laying his hand on her cheek. Take care baby, he whispered.  
Rogue didn't hear the whisper, but pretty soon Logan's powers went through her body and woke her up. The first thing she became aware of was a tinkling sensation in her arms, but when her mind cleared and she sat up, she had enough of Logan in her to remember the kiss. She looked over at where Logan was lying, guarded by Scott. Both she and the Logan part of her were a little amazed that Scott bothered about Logan. Maybe it was just for her sake, but in any case, she appreciated it.  
Even with Logan's powers the aftereffects of the anaesthesia dizzied her a little, but for the first time in a month, her arms didn't hurt one bit. They looked perfectly normal, too. It was enough to make her cry, and she walked over to Logan and knelt beside him. If she could, she would have hugged him, but since her arms were bare she just laid her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under his shirt. Thank you. Thank you so much.  
**********  
Scott sat on the TV room sofa with his arms wrapped around his knees. He had tried listening to a radio version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but had given it up since he lacked the concentration. Now he just sat there, thinking. He hated to admit it, but he envied Rogue. Every moment of comfort he shared with her, he always had to stop himself from screaming it in her face. He loved the girl like a sister, and he could share things with her that he was entirely grateful Jean would never understand, but he couldn't get past that envy. The awful memories she had, the people (not to mention mice) in her head, those were all things she had to deal with, but could work her way through. For him, every path he thought of was a door slammed in his face.  
I know you're there, he told Xavier. The professor had his mind shielded, but he couldn't shield away the sounds. What do you want?  
You left your cane in your bedroom, Xavier said mildly. Jean wanted me to bring it to you.  
Scott hesitated a little, then stretched out his hand and received the cane. Not sure what to do with it, he put it aside. He had agreed to Jean getting him one, but when it came to using it, he avoided it as much as possible. Canes were for blind people, and deep down he still wanted to think of this as a passing darkness.  
Scott, don't resent the cane. It's meant to be helpful.  
I know that. He knew it, but he couldn't act on it.  
Xavier viewed this young man he loved so highly, and then parked his wheelchair and moved over to the sofa. For this conversation, he needed that closeness. Softly, he continued to speak.  
I know how hard it is for you to admit, but you *are* blind, Scott. We might be able to change that, but right now, that's the way things are. That's going to have great impact on your life, but you mustn't let it swallow you. Don't deny yourself the help you can actually get.  
You don't understand, Scott argued, fighting the tears.  
I *do* understand. I have been there, remember? Don't you think there was a time when I resented my wheelchair, refused to admit that I needed it? And yet, where would I be without it? The cane is a physical proof of your handicap, and as such it is very difficult to accept. But properly used, it can lessen your handicap, allow you more possibilities, just like my chair does for me.  
At least you still have your powers. I don't have anything.  
Xavier felt a sudden urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. You have Jean, and me, and Rogue, all your friends here, everything you've learned Everything you've always known. That's not gone, Scott. All those things that made you a good man, a good leader, that's still left. If you think the only great things about you were your eyes, you're sorely mistaken.  
Scott put his face in his hands and removed his glasses to wipe the tears away. Even if that was true, there were still all the closed doors, all the things he used to do and couldn't. I'm just not ready to give it all up.  
He could have sworn he could *hear* Xavier smile. Who said you have to?  
**********  
On the first day of school, there was plenty of gossip in the hallways as the summer residents tried to fill in the others of the latest events.  
and Storm has been made field leader.  
The shocked questions. Is he *never* going to see again?  
Rogue leaned towards the wall, ignoring the discussion. For her it was too personal, and she had noticed that if she tried to participate, things just turned awkward. The only thing that stopped them from discussing *her* was that she was right in front of them. That didn't bother her much. She would have done the exact same thing.  
This next class was history, usually held by Scott, and Kitty said what was going through all of their minds: But who is going to teach us?  
Even as she spoke, everybody silenced, because Scott rounded the corner and tapped his way towards the classroom. Nobody would have thought it possible for twenty teenagers to get that quiet that fast, but within a second you could have heard a pin drop. When they realised he was actually coming towards them, most of them didn't even seem to breathe. Rogue felt a cold irritation building inside her that hadn't been there during the mindless conversation before. These were mutants, for crying out loud, they had seen it all from wings to blue fur. Why were they acting like this was the most shocking thing in the universe? By now, she had grown so close to Scott that she could notice the tiny cracks in his surface, and she saw how hard it was for him to go through with this, how the faint replies to his morning greetings almost made him leave instantly. When he opened the door, there was a three foot wide empty circle around him. She slipped into that circle, laying her hand on his as a quiet sign of encouragement. His face weakened a little, and she prayed he would be able to keep his calm. The only thing that would make this situation even more awkward would be if he started to cry or something. She knew he could, but they didn't, and this was not the proper time for them to find out.  
Still silent, the class slowly went inside the classroom and sat down, watching Scott take his chair. He leaned his hands on the desk and took a deep breath. *Come on*, Rogue thought, *you can do it!*  
To begin with Kitty's question: I'm still going to teach this class. It's going to require some changes a lot of changes but I think we can go through with this. He licked his lips. Fearless leader, indeed. Maybe he could stand fearless in front of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, but to stand in front of this class, now, was terrifying. If you have any objections, I won't hold it against you. He silenced, waiting for response. There was none. Do you?  
There were glances thrown between the students, but nobody spoke. Scott forced a strained smile. I do hope you're not putting your hands up, because that would be rather pointless.  
We're not, Bobby said. His voice seemed very loud in the silent classroom, but it was as if the entire class had simultaneously exhaled, and Scott finally gav them the drop dead smile.  
I'm glad to hear that. Now, as for attention, I think it would be best if you all said your name, starting in the front row, left to right.  
Rogue heard the leader come forward in Scott's voice, and she blessed Bobby. Who cared if he put itching powder in people's drawers or accidentally turned the floor into a skating rink. He still knew the right thing to say and the right time to say it.  
The boy sitting to the front left didn't speak immediately, but after a nudge from the girl next to him, he cleared his throat:  
Kurt Wagner.  
Stacey Beckstead.  
Sarah Loewe.  
Piotr Rasputin.  
When everyone had said their names, Sam Guthrie, in the back row, started raising his hand, but then let it fall back and instead asked: sir?  
Scott turned towards the voice. Who's asking?  
The boy looked a little embarrassed.   
Okay, Sam, what do you want?  
Does this mean we won't have any written tests?  
The question caught Scott off guard, and he laughed. You will probably get more oral tasks than before, but if you want something written I'm sure I can arrange for someone else to correct it.  
Jubilee elbowed Sam and whispered: between her teeth.  
Scott said, and his voice was serious. Please, no. It's a justified question. He ran his fingers through his hair, distressed. If someone wants to ask anything else, that's okay.  
There was another one of those big silences. Hundreds of questions were unspoken, but nobody had the nerve to say one out loud. Rogue look around the twenty faces that were full of uncomfort and pity, and maybe it was Logan coming forward, because she raised her voice.  
It's Rogue, I have a question.  
Scott frowned. This he hadn't expected. Yes, Rogue?  
Was Pharaoh Hatshupset's claim to the throne rightful?  
A flicker of a smile. *I love you, girl.* Okay. Let's just have a history lesson. Concerning the lady pharaoh  
**********  
Jean called for Scott as the kids streamed out of the classroom. How was it?  
he said. Hell, hell and a little touch of purgatory.  
Oh, come on, she said, laughing a little. It can't have been that bad.  
  
Well, I want a second opinion. Rogue! Jean called for the girl to come join them, and she did. How did he do?  
Not too bad for a guy who is still learning the alphabet, Rogue said cheekily.  
Scott objected, but his face got lighter, and Jean giggled.  
Not a complete disaster then?  
Not a complete one, Rogue agreed and disappeared into the hallways. Jean looked after her, a little surprised.  
Logan must have gone deeper into her than I thought.  
It's not that, Scott said in a low voice. The kids had scattered for the break, and the two of them could speak freely. I've had to try and teach twenty teenagers who were all full of sympathy. If it hadn't been for Rogue, I would have gotten nuts in there. Do you know how many half-spoken 'see' you can get from a school class in an hour? I do. It would make a great math example for you. His tone was bitter, and she slipped an arm around his, a little worried.  
You're not giving up, are you?  
He shook his head. No. I can't go back to the X-men, I need to feel that there's something I can do. Of course, Logan seems to want me to rejoin the team and just change my code name into Zatoichi.  
Maybe he's right, Jean said.  
No he's not, and you know it. Blind warriors might work in samurai stories and cartoon musicals, but try to be realistic here. Maybe I could still whip Mystique's ass, but I couldn't hold my ground with Magneto for half a second.  
I think whipping Mystique's ass would count as a valid reason for me to break off the engagement, Jean said.  
Cute. Don't change the subject.  
Well, I want to change the subject, because you are entering self-pitying area again, and you really shouldn't. You've been very brave today, and I'm proud of you, if that counts for anything.  
Of course it does, he said, cuddling her face gently. So, if I've been such a good boy, what's my reward?  
Her face split in a wide grin. Whatever you want, handsome.  
**********  
Bobby and Rogue were sitting on her bed, playing cards. There was some nasty weather today that Storm had nothing to do with, and it was very cosy to listen to the autumn winds and know you didn't have to go outside.  
I don't believe it, Rogue said and put her cards down. You're winning again. You must be cheating!  
Me? Never, Bobby assured her.  
Then you're just better than me and I should stop playing and go out in the garden to eat worms.  
he said, taking her gloved hand. I didn't mean to make you sad.  
Rogue looked down at her hand, that he held so naturally, and her heart skipped a beat. He was making a pass at her. In many ways that felt as incredibly right as anything could ever be, but at the same time she could suddenly hear Doctor Chandler's sweet voice all over again. *I don't understand why you are crying. Sure this is uncomfortable, but think of how wonderful it will be if it works! Think of boys! You can't have been dating much lately.*  
She pulled her hand back and got up. I'll just take a shower, she said, backing towards the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute.  
Once inside the bathroom, she got her clothes off so quickly she could feel a seam break in her blouse, but she didn't care. Not until she stepped into the shower did she breathe properly again, and she relaxed one piece at the time when the burning hot water started pouring over her body. She rubbed herself frantically, and the burning pain in her skin told her she was getting cleaner.  
A sudden drop in temperature made her jump out of the shower, screaming. Although the boy wasn't in the bathroom, it was obvious that he had been: the pipes were packed in a block of ice. She put on a robe and went into the bedroom, where Bobby was waiting for her.  
Bobby, of all the stupid pranks you have pulled  
It wasn't a prank, he said, getting up from where he was seated. His voice was more serious than she had ever heard it. Rogue, Jubes says you're taking up to three showers every day. Nobody is that dirty. It seems a little bit you know compulsive.  
You've been discussing me with Jubilee? Well, of course he had, they were her friends, friends talk about each other. Bobby didn't even bother to answer, he just said her name very quietly and put his hands on her shoulders.  
It was just a pair of hands on her shoulders, a pair of worried eyes looking into hers, but the immediate urge to wash faded off, and she relaxed like a kitten in a warm lap. When he leaned closer to her, she knew she ought to stop him, but her mind wouldn't listen to reason, she just wanted to kiss him.  
Then her lips touched something very cold, and she realised she was kissing him through a thin layer of ice. A highly unusual way of kissing, but then, they were both highly unusual. Strangely enough, it didn't lessen the sensation. She was still kissing Bobby, the ice was a part of Bobby, and maybe it was the peculiarity of it all that made it so wonderful.  
In the fairy tales, a kiss can bring you back to life. That's in the fairy tales. That's not reality. It wasn't the kiss that did it, it was the knowledge that she *could* kiss. In a dark corner of her mind, even though it had been months since she escaped from the hospital, she hadn't been able to get rid of the feeling that maybe the doctors were right and she really was defect. Now she felt no such thing.  
He pulled away and looked at her, his eyes glittering, and his voice full of mirth. I assure you, milady, that my intentions are  
She had the time to think *if he says I'll kill him,* before he continued:  
  
A young man with honorable intentions, courting a young lady in a flowery robe. What a picturesque scene, like something by Jane Austen.  
Stories by Jane Austen always have a happy ending. Rogue wasn't sure, but she felt like hers could have one as well.  
**********  
Jean woke up, and lay smiling for a while, watching the snowflakes fall by the window. Then she slowly left the bed and went to look outside. The world had turned a soft white, and the students had already discovered it, fully dressed and playing outside at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning. Jean carefully opened the window and took some snow from the windowpane, squeezing it into a ball with her bare hands before she returned to bed.  
she said, guess what?  
Her lover was still only half awake. he muttered.  
She pushed the snowball into his face. It's snowing.  
All the cold snow woke him up completely, and he sat up, shaking it off like a wet dog. Ouh! You! He grabbed Jean and shook her playfully. Although he was so reserved in public the students actually had secret discussions on whether or not he and Jean had any lovelife at all, he never held back when they were alone. You're going to pay for this.  
She put her arms around him, watching him closely. It was kind of funny, all those times she had wished she could see his eyes, and now she could and he couldn't see hers. Even though they were dead and expressionless, his eyes were absolutely beautiful. Oh, am I?  
He slipped out of her embrace and left the bed, walking to the window. With it open, it was getting cold in there. He leaned out to get the remainders of the snow from the windowpane, and a girl's voice called for him.   
He leaned down. What is it?  
When the voice continued, he recognized it as Rogue's. We're having a snowball fight. You and Jean want to join us?  
In a minute, just let us get dressed first!  
He pulled back inside, squeezing the snow between his fingers. You know, Jean, I have been thinking.  
About what?  
That was enough for him to take aim, and he threw the snowball right into her face.  
he said triumphantly when he heard her sputter. About setting a date.  
At first she didn't connect, but then she realised what she was talking about and smiled happily. A wedding date?  
he said, getting his clothes from the drawers. He held up a shirt. Blue checkered one?  
He had always kept his clothes in good order and was rarely mistaken. I think it's a lovely idea. Did you have a special date in mind?  
Not really, you tell me.  
She started putting on clothes as well. How about Easter? We could have egg hunting on the reception.  
Now, Jean, I'm serious, he said reproachfully.  
Me too, she said, kissing him. Easter wedding, doesn't that sound nice?  
Okay then, Easter it is, he agreed, smiling.  
When he had finished dressing, he turned to her, and she realised what an absolutely handsome groom he would be. Tall, straight and slim, there was nothing that would fit him better than black tails. Are you done?  
  
They may be grown up, but the first snow still managed to get their spirits up, and they joked and played all the way down to the yard. Coming out, Scott immediately got a snowball in his face. Remy, who had thrown it and aimed for Kitty, blushed a little.  
I'm sorry  
They're participants, Remy! Rogue yelled. Free targets!  
Remy glanced nervously at Scott, whose face could have been carved in stone. Rogue, I am not, nor will I ever be, a free target. He leaned down and squeezed a snowball. Remy LeBeau you're a dead man.  
Jean laughed at her fiancé's aggressive energy in attacking the boy. Take it easy on him, Scott, at least he didn't charge the thing.  
It's a no powers game, Kitty explained and got a very nice hit at Jean's neck. Cold snow slipped in under the collar.  
Jean yelled and hurried to hit back, and the game restarted in full frenzy.  
Shouldn't we give Scott a handicap? someone suggested.  
What, another one?  
Jean ignored the snowballs flying in her direction to glance at Scott, and she noticed a satisfied smile on his face. In the passing months, the kids had grown more or less accustomed to his blindness, but this was the first time they actually dared to joke about it.  
No favours needed, he yelled, I can take you all down if I have to.  
And he proceeded to prove it.  
**********  
The phone in Xavier's office rung, and he took it absentmindedly, but the words Haskell clinic, San Francisco got his attention. Yes, please put him on, I'll hold.  
He listened to his old friend's explanation about the opening in his schedule, and a grateful smile spread over his face. I'm sure he'll want it. Thank you so much. Not many people would be willing to do this.  
The laughing response: I'm not many people, Chuck, I'm just me.  
When Xavier had hung up the phone, he sat thinking for a while before he wheeled over to the window and looked down at the people playing, at Scott. He had always known the young man was tough, and it really didn't surprise him much that he had learned to adapt to his disability. Whatever the future, Scott would be able to deal with it, but Xavier knew the operation was still necessary.  
Scott had lived five months in uncertainty, and he deserved this chance. Not so much the chance to see as the chance to know the truth.  
Any truth.  
  
  
THE END  



End file.
